Clique
Rap Rap], Hip-Hop Hip-Hop] |Released=Sep 7 2012 |image= }} "Clique" (with Big Sean, Jay-Z) Intro What of the dollar you murdered for Is that the one fighting for your soul Or your brother’s the one that you’re running from But if you got money, fuck it, because I want some Big Sean Ain’t nobody fuckin’ with my Clique, clique, clique, clique, clique Ain’t nobody freshin’ than my muthafuckin’ Clique, clique, clique, clique, clique As I look around, they don’t do it like my Clique, clique, clique, clique, clique And all these bad bitches, man, they want the They want the, they want the 1: Big Sean I tell a bad bitch do whatever I say My block behind me like I’m coming out the driveway It’s grande, from Friday, to next Friday I been up straight for nine days, I need a spa day She tryna get me that poo tang I might let my crew bang My crew deeper than Wu Tang I’m rolling with (Huh) fuck I’m saying? Girl, you know my crew name You know 2 Chainz? Scrrr! I’m pullin’ up in that Bruce Wanye But I’m the fuckin’ villian, man, they kneelin when I walkin in the building Freaky women I be feelin’ from the bank accounts I’m fillin’ What a feeling, ah man, they gotta be Young player from the D that’s killin’ everything that he see Hook Jay-Z: Yeah am talking Ye’, yeah am talking Rih’, yeah I’m talking B, nigga I’m talking me Yeah I’m talking bossy, I ain’t talking Kelis You’re money too short, you can’t be talking to me Yeah I’m talking LeBron, we balling our family tree G.O.O.D Music drug dealing drug cousin, ain’t nothing fuckin’ with we Turn that 62 to 125, 125 to a 250, 250 to a half a milli, ain’t nothin’ nobody can do with me Now who with me? ¡Vámonos! Call me Hov or jefe Translation, I’m the shit. Least that what my neck say, least that what my check say Lost my homie for a decade, nigga down for like 12 years, ain’t hug his son since the second grade He never told, who we gonna tell, we top of the totem pole It’s the dream team meets the supreme team, and all our eyes green and only means one thing You ain’t fuckin’ with my clique West: Break records of Louie Ate breakfast at Gucci My girl a superstar all from a home movie Bow on our arrival the unamerican idols What niggas did in Paris got em hanging off the Eiffel Yeah I’m talking business We talking CIA I’m talking George Tenet I seen him the other day He asked me about my Maybach Think he had the same Except mine tinted and his might have been rented You know white people get money don’t spend it Or maybe they get money, buy a business I rather buy 80 gold chains and go ig’nant I know Spike Lee gon kill me but let me finish Blame it on the pigment, we living no limits Them gold master p ceilings was just a figment Of our imagination, MTV cribs Now I’m looking at a crib right next to where TC lives That’s Tom Cruise, whatever she accuse He wasn’t really drunk he just had a few brews Pass the refreshment a cool cool beverage Everything I do need a news crew presence Speed Boat swerve homie, watch out for the waves I’m way too black to burn from sunrays So I just meditated the home in Pompei About how I could build a new Rome in one day Every time I’m in Vegas they screaming like he’s Elvis But I just wanna design hotels and nail it Shit is real got me feelin’ Isrealian Like Bar Refaeli Gisele, no thats Brazilian Went through deep depression when my momma passed Suicide what kind of talk is that But I’ve been talking to God for so long That if have you look in my life I guess he talking back Fuckin’ with my clique Category:Song Category:Rap